He ridiculed my prayers, said they were of no avail where the enemy was concerned; that a hearty curse would give me more relief. I tell you he was a master of malediction! There was an imprecation he used to repeat so often that I remember it to this hour. I will repeat it for you—it is in that fearful Magyar lingo: "Tarka kutya tarka magasra kutyorodott kaeskaringós farka!"[3]
[3] The imprecation is really quite harmless, as are many other of the dreadful things attributed to the Magyars. It is, literally: "The spotted dog's straight upright spotted tail."—Translator's observation.
"Hold!" commanded the prince. "That sounds like an incantation."
"Like 'abraxas,' or 'ablanathanalba,'" added the mayor, shuddering. "We must make a note of it; the court astronomer may, with the assistance of the professors, be able to tell us its portent."
When the notary had taken down the imprecation, his highness, the prince, said to the prisoner:
"Continue, my son. How long were you compelled to remain in that deplorable condition of slavery?"
One day, resumed the accused, while I was fervently praying that heaven, or Satan, would relieve me from my ignominious situation, we turned into an oak forest. We had hardly got well into it, when, with a fearful noise, as if heaven and earth were crashing together, the huge trees came toppling over on us, burying the entire vanguard of the Tartar horde, together with their captives, under the trunks and branches.
Every one of the trees in the forest had been sawn clear through the trunk, but left standing upright, thus forming a horrible trap for the Tartars. The first tree that toppled over, of course, threw over the one against which it fell, that one in turn throwing over the next one, and so on until the entire wood was laid low.
My Tartar rider and I were crushed to the earth by the same tree. It was fortunate for me that I had him on my back, for he received the full force of the falling tree; his head was crushed, while mine was so firmly wedged between his knees I couldn't move. The horrible noise and confusion robbed me of my senses; I became unconscious. It is, therefore, impossible for me to tell how I escaped with my life. I only know that when I came to my senses I found myself in the camp of the "Haidemaken," a company of thieves and murderers, made up of all nationalities, the worst of all the robber bands that infested the country. The members were the outcasts of every land—the flower of the gallows. When inflamed with wine, they fought each other with axes; settled all disputes with knife and club. He who had become notorious for the worst crimes was welcomed to their ranks; the boldest, the most reckless dare-devil, became their leader. They would release condemned criminals, often appearing as if sprung from the earth at the place of execution, bear away the miscreants, who, naturally, became members of the band.
Was a pretty woman condemned to the stake for violation of the marriage vow or for witchcraft, the haidemaken would be on hand before the match was applied to the faggots, and bear away the fair culprit. In a word, the haidemaken were the hope, the comfort, the providence of every miscreant that trembled in shackles.